"What of the Shapieron ?" Calazar demanded in an unusually clipped voice. Hunt would have expected that for one of Broghuilio’s rank some form of opening formality would have been appropriate. The flicker of surprise that he caught on the faces of the other two Jevlenese seemed to say so too. One of them looked directly at where Hunt was sitting and stared straight through. It was a strange feeling.
"I regret the intrusion," Broghuiio began. His voice was deep and harsh, and he spoke stiffly, in the manner of somebody performing a duty that demanded a greater show of feeling than he could muster readily. "We have just received news of the most serious nature: all traces of the ship have disappeared from our tracking data. We can only conclude that it has been destroyed." He paused and cast his eyes around the room for effect. "The possibility that this could be the result of a deliberate act cannot be dismissed."
The Thuriens stared back in silence for what seemed a long time. They did not attempt playacting any show of concern or dismay. . . . or even surprise. The first glimmer of uncertainty crept into Broghuilio’s eyes as he searched the Ganymean faces for a reaction. Evidently this was not going as he had anticipated.
One of the other two, also tall, dressed somberly in dark blue and black, with icy blue eyes, slicked-back silver hair, and a florid face that tended toward puffiness, seemed not to have read the signs. "We tried to warn you," he said, spreading his hands imploringly in a good imitation of sharing the anguish that the Thuriens were presumably supposed to be feeling at that moment. "We urged you to intercept the ship before now." That was hardly true; possibly he placed a lot of faith in his powers of suggestion. "We told you that Earth would never allow the Shapieron to reach Thurien."
Across the room Garuth’s eyes turned steely, and his expression was about as close to malevolence as that of a Ganymean could get. "Patience, Garuth," Hunt called out. "You’ll get your shots in before long."
"Luckily Ganymeans possess plenty of that," Garuth replied. The Jevlenese didn’t hear a thing. It was uncanny.
"Really?" Calazar responded after a pause. He sounded neither convinced nor impressed. "Your concern is most touching, Secretary Wylott. You almost sound as if you believe your own lies."
Wylott froze with his mouth hanging half open, obviously taken completely aback. The third Jevlenese, who had to be Estordu, was a lean, thin-faced man with a hooked nose, wearing an elaborate two-piece garment of light green embroidered with gold over a yellow shirt. He threw up his hands in shock. "Lies? I don’t understand. Why do you say that? You have been tracking the ship yourselves. Hasn’t VISAR confirmed the data?"
Broghuilio’s expression darkened. "You have insulted us," he rumbled ominously. "Are you telling us that VISAR does not corroborate what we have said?"
"I’m not disputing the data," Calazar told him. "But I would advise you to think again about your explanation for it."
Broghuilio drew himself up to his full height to face the Thuriens squarely. Evidently he was going to brazen it out. "Explain yourself, Calazar," he growled.
"But we are waiting for you to explain yourself ," Showm said from one side of Calazar. Her voice was low, little more than a whisper, but it held the tension of a tightly wound spring. Braghuilio jerked his face around to look at her, his eyes darting suspiciously from side to side as a sixth sense told him he had walked into a trap. "Let’s forget the Shapieron for a moment," Showm went on. "How long has JEVEX been falsifying its reports of Earth?"
"What?" Broghuilio’s eyes bulged. "I don’t understand. What is the-"
"How long?" Showm asked again, her voice rising suddenly to cut the air sharply. Her tone and the expressions of the other Thuriens spelled out clearly that any attempt at a denial would have been futile. The hue of Broghuilio’s face deepened to purple, but he seemed too stunned to form a reply.
"What grounds do you have for such an accusation?" Wylott demanded. "The department that conducts the surveillance is responsible to me. I consider this a personal attack."
"Evidence?" Showm uttered the word offhandedly, as if the demand were too absurd to take seriously. "Earth disarmed strategically in the second decade of its current century and has pursued peaceful coexistence ever since, but JEVEX has never mentioned it. Instead JEVEX has reported nucleonic weapons deployed in orbit, radiation projectors sited on Luna, military installations across the solar system, and a whole concoction of fictions that have never existed. Do you deny it?"
Estordu was thinking frantically as he listened. "Corrections," he blurted suddenly. "Those were corrections, not falsifications. Our sources led us to believe that Earth’s governments had discovered the surveillance, and they had conspired to conceal their warlike intentions. We instructed JEVEX to apply a correction factor by extrapolating the developments that would have taken place if the surveillance had not been discovered, and we presented these as facts in order to insure that our protective measures would not be relaxed." The stares coming from the Thuriens were openly contemptuous, and he finished lamely, "Of course, it is possible that the corrections were. . . . somewhat exaggerated unintentionally."
"So I ask you again, how long?" Showm said. "How long has this been practiced?"
"Ten, maybe twenty years. . . . I can’t remember."
"You don’t know?" She looked at Wylott. "It’s your department. Have you no records?"
"JEVEX keeps the records," Wylott replied woodenly.
"VISAR," Calazar said. "Obtain the records from JEVEX for us."
"This is outrageous!" Broghuilio shouted, his face turning black with anger. "The surveillance program is entrusted to us by longstanding agreement. You have no right to make such a demand. It has been negotiated."
Calazar ignored him. A few seconds later VISAR informed them, "I can’t make any sense of the response. Either the records are corrupted, or JEVEX is under a directive not to release them."
Showm did not seem surprised. "Never mind," she said, and looked back at Estordu. "Let’s give you the benefit of the doubt and say twenty years. Therefore anything reported by JEVEX before that time will not have been altered. Is that correct?"
"It might have been more," Estordu said hastily. "Twenty-five thirty, perhaps."
"Then let’s go back further than that. The Second World War on Earth ended eighty-six years ago. I have examined some of the accounts of events during that period as reported by JEVEX at the time. Let me give you some examples. According to JEVEX, the cities of Hamburg, Dresden, and Berlin were devastated not by conventional saturation bombing but by nuclear weapons. According to JEVEX, the Korean conflict in the 1950s escalated into a major clash of Soviet and American forces; in fact, nothing of the kind took place. Neither were tactical nuclear devices used in the Middle East wars of the ‘60s and ‘70s, nor was there an outbreak of Sino-Soviet hostilities in the 1990s." Showm’s voice became icy as she concluded, "And neither was the Shapieron taken into captivity by a United States military garrison on Ganymede. The United States has never had a military garrison on Ganymede."
Estordu had no answer. Wylott remained immobile, staring straight in front of himself. Broghuilio seemed to swell with indignation. "We asked for evidence! " he thundered. "That is not evidence. Those are allegations. Where is your proof? Where are your witnesses? Where is your justification for this intolerable behavior?"